


Paean

by therantygeek



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 08:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14160435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therantygeek/pseuds/therantygeek
Summary: Set before the first Thor movie, the springtime arrival of the newest of Asgard’s ladies at court becomes more interesting than usual when one of them takes an unexpected interest in the OTHER son of Odin…Warnings: at least fifteen times the amount of recommended floof, a dash of angst, Loki being cynical, Thor being a sweetheart, mangled old Norse stuff, bad (but original) poetry.





	Paean

A fresh Spring dawned on Asgard, and while the weather largely never changed on the Realm Eternal the turn of the season happened to be an auspicious one. The public court in the House of Odin would open its doors to all those youngsters newly come of age, ready to cast aside childish concerns and take up the mantle of adulthood under the watchful eye of the Allfather.

By longstanding tradition, the start of the palace court season was also something of a door-opener for any families with daughters of sufficient ambition to try and attract the attention of the royal princes. Odin and Frigga had two sons – both, as the queen would laughingly put it, free for the asking – but in fact it was only one of the two who greeted the season’s arrival with keenness, since more or less the entirety of the attention of the newly-minted ladies of Asgard would be devoted to him, and him alone.

Like everything else about him, Thor’s enthusiasm was big enough to fill the great hall and many neighbouring chambers, and tended to spill over onto anyone passing nearby. On that particular morning he was inadvertently spreading fervent bonhomie onto the most unwilling recipient imaginable; his younger brother, Loki.

‘Why do you grouse so, brother? Scores of beautiful ladies, all of them so charmingly attentive and eager to please-’

'Eager to please  _you_ ,’ Loki replied disinterestedly. His bitterness over his brother’s endlessly superior luck with the opposite sex was worn thin and replaced by an acerbic cynicism about the entire business. He at least generally had options to pick amongst from those Thor rejected, for a handful of disappointed ladies would usually remember the  _other_  prince even if only as an afterthought. While Loki far from enjoyed being an afterthought in any sense, it was hard to be otherwise in the shadow of his larger, stronger and more bombastic sibling, so he’d been obliged to make peace with it and instead settled for indulgence in withering mockery whenever the chance arose.

'Perhaps if you were a little more forward, brother, you could attract some of your own!’ Thor shrugged on his cloak and grabbed Loki’s shoulders with a broad grin. 'Read a little less, train for battle a little more…or a  _lot_  more…’

'I think Asgard has more than its fill of semi-illiterate bilgesnipes,’ Loki replied with a weary roll of his eyes. 'No need to overload the population further.’

Thor chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder.

'Perhaps one day a lady will come who enjoys the clever, bookish sorts, eh?’

'Shall we go?’ Loki asked, motioning to the door, 'Lest the new ladies of Asgard think that their most beloved semi-illiterate bilgesnipe isn’t going to make an appearance?’

Predictably, Thor roared out a laugh and set off down the corridor at a quick pace after that.

*

'I really don’t see what all the fuss is about, Astrid. I mean yes, Prince Thor is terribly…impressive, I suppose, but I’m hardly feeling the urge to fall into a swoon at his feet.’

'Well I think you’re just being contrary for the sake of it.’

'I think  _you’ve_  got no taste in men.’

'Y/N Rohlsdottir, I’ve been at this court a full five seasons longer than you and I’ll thank you to remember that before you criticise my  _taste in men_.’ Astrid elbowed her sister playfully. 'Prince Thor  _is_  handsome, and not a single lady here would dispute it.’

'This one would. Besides, mass opinion hardly constitutes irrevocable fact.’ Y/N idly ran a hand through her hair and cast her gaze idly about the room. As well as the fawning crowd around the eldest prince there was a good smattering of clusters and knots of people all around the hall. Lord Volstagg she knew by sight, as his father was a cousin of her mother’s, and the fair-haired man with him was most likely Lord Fandral, which meant the armoured woman nearby was the Lady Sif, looking nearly as bored as Y/N herself felt. There was a cluster of sons and daughters of more minor houses nearby, chattering excitedly, and then a lone figure not so much standing by a pillar as  _lurking_ …

'Astrid, who is  _that_?’ Y/N asked, tugging her sister’s sleeve urgently.

'Who? Oh.’ Astrid made a face. 'That’s the – uh – the other one.’

’ _That’s_  Prince Loki?’ Y/N turned her head slightly without moving her gaze so it seemed marginally less like she was staring, but it was difficult not to be mesmerised by the tall, elegant figure in black, gold and green. 'He’s-’ she took a breath and swallowed hard ’-he’s  _beautiful_.’

Astrid made a rude noise at the back of her throat.

'I always thought he’d make a better prin _cess_  than a prince. You know he does  _magic_?’

'So? So does the Allfather, when he needs to.’

'Well, yes, but he’s-’ Astrid floundered for a moment ’-he’s the  _Allfather_. Besides, a man shouldn’t be  _beautiful_. And he’s far too skinny. Oh, look, there’s an opening – come on, you need to introduce yourself to the prince-’

'I plan to.’ Y/N strode away from her sister’s side, ignoring the spluttering protest this evoked, and crossed the hall before slowing her pace to a more cautiously decorous one. She stopped at an appropriate distance and stood, waiting for Loki to notice her. It seemed to take whole minutes before the younger prince became aware of her presence, and his gaze when it caught hers was one of mild perplexity.

'Yes?’

He was both beautiful  _and_  handsome, Y/N realised. While Loki’s face and build lent him a far more elegant and graceful mien than his burly sibling, the sharp cut of his cheekbones and the strong set to his shoulders completely belied Astrid’s implied insult of femininity. It was an odd thing to notice, threatening to leave her tongue-tied and starry-eyed before him – was this how all those swarms of women felt when they looked at Thor? – so she hurriedly masked her scrutiny with a deep curtsy that would have made her etiquette tutor weep with pride.

'I beg pardon for interrupting your thoughts, your highness. I am Y/N Rohlsdottir. I merely wished to introduce myself.’

'Killing time while waiting for the crush to thin out?’ he asked dryly. 'That’s certainly more intelligent than trying to wade in now. Give it a few minutes and most of them will have had their fill for the time being.’

Y/N glanced back to where Thor was brandishing Mjolnir for a troupe of giggling blondes from the upper city terraces. Oh…Loki must have assumed she was only speaking to him because she couldn’t get to his brother. Turning back, she constructed a shrug which was distinctly  _un_ ladylike, although it would certainly still have set her old teacher weeping.

'In truth, your highness, I’m not sure what all the fuss is about Prince Thor. My sister is very keen for me to make his acquaintance but…you seem more interesting. And-’ a small hint of a smile crept out despite her best efforts ’-and  _far_  more handsome.’

She’d hoped for him to laugh, perhaps offer her his arm and take her to a quieter part of the hall, but instead he just rolled his eyes and regarded her with a rather unpleasant smirk of extremely measured disdain.

'Ah, you’re one of the  _clever ones_ , are you?’

'…clever, your highness?’

'You’re not the first to attempt this particular angle, although rather more subtly than the last few, and the false blush on top of the coquettish smile was a nice touch.’

Blinking, now rather at sea, Y/N fumbled for a reply.

'Save your breath, my dear,’ Loki said to her with obviously false solicitude. 'An admirable ploy, but it hasn’t worked. Still, points for effort. It has been a while.’

He started to turn, clearly planning to walk away. Now indignant at being so peremptorily dismissed, especially in combination with such enigmatic scorn, Y/N set her jaw. In a moment so irrationally bold and daring, but one she held that she would never in a million years regret, she scurried after him and reached out to arrest his exit.

Of course grabbing at one of the royal family, even the markedly less popular younger prince, was hardly a capital offence, but if he made something of it she could certainly expect a public reprimand, summary dismissal from court and absolute disgrace for her entire family.

Unfortunately, this only occurred to Y/N as her hand closed around Loki’s leather-wrapped wrist and pulled. He turned back, more from surprise than the force of her grip, and for a handful of heartbeats blind panic filled her. Then he smirked again – seemingly in genuine amusement – and fright abandoned its post to be replaced by mild puzzlement.

'Persistent as well? You are unusual. Although-’ gently but firmly detaching her hand from his forearm with a pointed look ’-I’d advise against seizing hold of anyone else while you’re at court. Not everyone has my good humour.’

Trying hard not to flounder – her actions had brought them into more immediate proximity and the blue-green of his eyes was almost hypnotic up close – Y/N cleared her throat.

'Pardon me, your highness, but perhaps you would be kind enough to  _explain_  to me the reason for a dismissal as enigmatic as it was discourteous?’

He did laugh, then – a surprisingly deep but melodic sound that under other circumstances would have had her utterly enchanted – and turned properly back to face her with a short, over-formal half bow as though she were some veteran lady of the court rather than an upstart newcomer.

'My apologies, Lady Y/N. Allow me to correct my rudeness.’ Folding his hands behind his back, he took another step towards her and dipped his head a little so they were almost eye to eye. 'To summarise: you, like every other young woman in this court in possession of a pulse, will do almost anything to get the attention, let alone the favour, of my dear brother. Naturally this leads to something of an overabundance of competition which makes it nigh-on impossible to exchange ten words with him, let alone a proper conversation.  _So_ , every few years the noble lines of Asgard manage to produce a daughter of sufficient guile and cunning to settle upon a more oblique line of attack, namely to feign charmed interest in the  _other_  son of the throne, who of course lacking an adoring crowd of his own must surely be easy to seduce. This naturally leads to a much less laborious way to gain access to the mighty Thor in a far more private and perhaps even semi-intimate setting, whereupon of course the lesser prince may be easily cast aside in favour of the intended target once his attention is more firmly secured.’ Another smile, this one almost insultingly saccharine. 'So, did I miss anything?’

Y/N all but gaped at him, mind awhirl. People  _did_  that? What kind of manipulative, calculating,  _monstrous_  phony would-

'I’ll infer from your stunned silence that I covered all the most salient points,’ Loki said, his tone still pleasant. 'Still, I do applaud your effort…and persistence. Good day, Lady Y/N.’ With a nod, he left her standing there and was gone from sight before she could recover herself enough to protest.

’ _Y/N_!’ Astrid materialised beside her at that point, grabbing her elbow to steer her firmly back towards the main crowd around Prince Thor. 'Come  _on_ , we’ve an opening and it’s likely the only one we’ll get today-’

Remaining rather too stunned to protest overmuch, Y/N permitted her sister to tow her back across the hall and half-shove, half-deposit her almost squarely in front of Prince Thor. The enormous man beamed down at her in much the same manner, she suspected, he might regard a fresh tankard of good mead.

'Another new face! I swear the ladies of Asgard become more beautiful every year!’

This roused a round of giggling and titters from the adoring throng, but Y/N found bewilderment giving way to irritation. She wasn’t in the least part interested in this enormous blonde colossus and wanted  _very_  much to find Prince Loki so that she could firmly explain just how mistaken his very detailed summary of her supposed intentions was.

'A moment of your time, your highness?’ Astrid said in an appropriately deferential tone, if not necessarily a modest volume.

'Lady Astrid, yes, daughter of Lord Rohl?’

'You’re so kind to remember me, your highness.’ Astrid was of course blushing furiously at the notion that Prince Thor knew her by sight. 'This is my younger sister, Y/N.’

'Your highness.’ Y/N bobbed a curtsy that was more perfunctory than perfected, barely resisting the urge to crane her neck around the bulk of Thor’s shoulders to see if Loki was now lurking in the part of the hall behind him.

'Lady Y/N-’ her hand was seized in one enormous, well-muscled paw and kissed with surprising delicacy before she could respond ’-it is entirely my pleasure. Why, you and your sister are so very different to the eyes, I would not have known you were kin without being told.’

'So are the sun and moon, my lord,’ Astrid put in with a smile that would have made a cat sick, 'And yet still they are both children of the sky!’

'Or the sons of crown,’ Y/N said, and cocked her head curiously. Close up Thor was somewhat better-looking, having an animated face and sharp eyes that belied more intelligence than his boisterous manner suggested, but he and Loki were as different as day and night. 'Your brother is much leaner, your highness, and his hair is as black as yours is golden.’

'That’s very true,’ Thor admitted with a grin that made several nearby women blush and sigh, 'I am hardly one to talk on the matter of sibling similarities. Have you met my brother, Lady Y/N?’ He cast about as if fully expecting Loki to be hiding somewhere in the midst of the surrounding throng.

'Briefly, your highness, but he…departed rather abruptly.’ Y/N pointedly ignored the baffled look that Astrid was shooting at her. 'He didn’t seem very inclined to make conversation.’

'Ah, that sounds like Loki,’ Thor chuckled, and actually patted her shoulder with one enormous hand as if in reassurance. 'Do not let my brother’s introverted tendencies put you off the idea of his company, Lady Y/N, I implore you.’

'I had no intention of any such thing, your highness,’ she replied, relaxing slightly. She’d rather expected Thor to be absolutely insufferable in person after hearing Astrid go on and on and  _on_ about him, but thankfully that seemed not to be the case.

'That’s the spirit – a boldness worthy of Asgard,’ he shot back with another grin.

'You flatter me.’ Y/N bobbed another quick curtsy. 'I should not monopolise any more of your time, your highness. I’m sure you have many people to meet.’

'Well, yes, but, ah-’ he actually caught her hand and kissed the back of it again ’-hopefully we shall speak again soon.’

Contenting herself with a deep nod, Y/N hastily backed off and let others press in around the prince in her place. Almost immediately Astrid had her by the elbow again and was firmly steering her aside into a quiet corner.

'Great Norns, Y/N, you’re  _unbelievable_. The prince was  _clearly_  interested in you and you all but fobbed him off in front of the entire hall!’

'Maybe  _Prince Thor_ -’ Y/N made sure to emphasise the name as a point of reminder that Asgard’s throne had more than one son ’-was just relieved to talk to someone who didn’t turn into a giggling, blushing puddle at his feet.’

Astrid huffed at that but didn’t seem inclined to contest it, ushering her into one of the smaller antechambers to greet some old friends and allies of their family whom it would be rude not to pay their respects to at court.

At the feast that evening Y/N stood in line with the rest of her peers to present herself to the Allfather and his queen. Odin was a formidable sight, even seated at the head table of the great banquet hall rather than upon his golden throne, and his face remained impassive to give only the barest perceptible acknowledgement as each young noble was introduced. Beside him, Queen Frigga offered gentle smiles and little nods of encouragement to almost everyone, her obvious warmth and kindness a dramatic contrast to her husband’s impassivity.

The two princes were sitting on the Allfather’s right, Thor closest to him and Loki just beyond. Y/N kept her face decorously to the front but snuck her gaze sideways towards the latter whenever she had the opportunity. Thor’s attention was split quite evenly between the parade of new courtiers and his mead mug, while Loki seemed utterly disinterested in the entire affair and was sipping rather more modestly from his own cup in between flicking his gaze around the rest of the hall.

Was he looking for someone, perhaps? No, there was something more broadly shrewd in his expression that suggested general observation rather than the pursuit of something in particular.

'Lady Y/N Rohlsdottir, second daughter in the House of Tideward of the western harbour-front.’

At her name, Y/N hurriedly stepped forward to make the appropriate genuflections to the rulers of Asgard. Of course her introduction aroused little more than the minimum of polite acknowledgement – the House of Tideward was not really of any particular note – but when she rose again from the usual deep court curtsy she risked flicking her eyes sideways and her heart nearly stopped.  _Both_  princes were looking right at her. Thor in fact caught her eye and flashed a beaming smile, but Loki’s expression remained carefully neutral.

Did he ever smile, she wondered,  _truly_  smile in proper gladness rather than that cold sneer?

She smiled at him, anyway, doing everything in her power to be clear it was aimed at  _him_  rather than his brother, then bowed her head to move back and return to her position at table beside her sister. Astrid gave her a nudge as she sat down.

'Did you  _see_  that? Most girls would give their eye-teeth and fall into a swoon to have the prince acknowledge them like that!’

Y/N privately thought that a grin from Thor wasn’t worth much of a swoon, let alone one’s eye-teeth, but remained silent. She did, however, sneak glances back towards the top table as often as she was able, and resolved to find some way to speak to Loki again as soon as possible to correct the assumption that he’d made about her interest in him. Let every other noble lady of the court vie for a friendly glance from Thor if they so chose. His raven-haired brother held infinitely more fascination for her.

The chance arose just two days later when she was alone, as luck would have it. Astrid was off somewhere – probably with the usual gaggle of persistently fawning hopefuls who trailed after Thor wherever he went – so Y/N had taken the opportunity to bring out her papers and do something more enjoyable. The palace was generously equipped with many balconies with excellent views of the rest of the city, so finding one where she could perch on a wide ledge overlooking the main harbour to sketch the waves was easy enough. She was doodling odds and ends of poetry in the space between images too, as was her wont.

The task was quite absorbing but she was roused from it by the sound of footsteps and voices – familiar ones, in fact. Tucked onto the ledge her presence wasn’t immediately obvious to anyone coming up the corridor, so she took the opportunity to cock an ear.

'…managed to slip away from them, but I’m sure they’ll find you again eventually.’ That was Loki – she’d recognise his musical baritone anywhere – and Y/N felt her heart speed up a little.

'Not everyone is as allergic to the attentions of ladies as you are, Loki.’ The other was Thor, jovial and amused. 'You could always  _try_  a little charm, put that gilded tongue of yours to some better use than trickery and mischief.’

'Why waste my time attempting to sway the hearts of those who have already decided to give theirs away elsewhere?’

'But that’s the fun of the  _chase_ , brother!’

'You’ve never had to  _chase_  a woman in your life.’

'You assume no lovely lady ever outpaced me?’

'You’re disgusting.’

'And speaking of lovely – Lady Y/N!’ Thor actually changed course and quickened his pace to arrive by the ledge where she sat. 'No, don’t get up, please,’ he added when she made to rise.

Y/N resettled herself and gave a deep nod of greeting to both of them, but was unable to stop her gaze from lingering on Loki.

'My brother and I were just taking a moment of respite from the attentions of the court,’ Thor said with a small grin. 'You won’t give us away, will you?’

'What is there to give away, your highness, when I’ve merely been sitting alone here for the nearly the entire morning?’

His grin broadened and he clapped his companion on the shoulder.

'You see, brother, not all the ladies of Asgard are so bad that they fall into a swoon at the merest favourable glance!’

'I suppose playing hard to get must have some interesting advantages,’ Loki replied coolly.

Y/N shifted and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

'Perhaps some of the ladies of Asgard would simply prefer to  _swoon_  for a raven rather than for an eagle, your highness.’

He cocked his head and for one too-brief moment she thought she saw the merest shadow of a smile curve his slim lips.

'Yes, well…come, brother-’ Thor thumped Loki on the arm ’-let’s hurry before we miss the others at the gate.’

Y/N watched them go, thoughtful.

*

A few days later a gala outside in the lavish gardens around the palace had Astrid fussing in sufficient delight that Y/N was able to slip away from her into the milling crowds. Most of the ladies present were of course orbiting Thor like twittering worlds around a hulking star, but she was more interested in something more often in shadow.

A goblet of wine in hand, nodding pleasantly and trading inconsequential morsels of conversation with those she passed, Y/N meandered towards the outskirts of the gathering while keeping her eyes mobile. When she spotted Loki it took all her self-control not to immediately stare at him, but she managed to avert her gaze sufficiently to keep it discreet.

He was sitting at the foot of a tree, long legs stretched out in front of him and a small book in his hands. The bright sunlight through the leaves cast a dappled pattern onto his dark hair and played interesting shades across his face, making him look almost ethereally beautiful. His face was completely intent on the volume, eyes darting back and forth over the pages with the tiniest frown of concentration creasing his brows.

Moving slowly, as wary of disturbing him as she would be of startling a wild bird, Y/N settled onto one of the nearby benches. Setting her cup aside, she took out her sketchpad and pencil and began to draw. Ordinarily she wasn’t really much for portraits, preferring broader landscapes or the intricate details of plants or architecture, but seeing Loki at ease and unaware of her scrutiny was too much to resist.

Just as she began shading his hair, a snippet of verse came to her so suddenly that she had to write it down in a neat hand beside the image.

 _No prayer can move, no plea can sway_  
He who would read his cares away  
Still, as I look on his fair face  
I wish only for his embrace.

Scribbling love poetry now? Y/N half-giggled at her own foolishness and resumed drawing. The piece was almost complete when she felt herself being observed, but a hasty flick of her eyes confirmed that Loki was still absorbed in his reading.

'Lady Y/N! I missed you at the toasts.’

Y/N bit her lip against a completely irrational urge to scream at Thor to go away. He’d apparently extricated himself from his many admirers to come and speak with her, and he’d shown her nothing but courtesy since their first meeting, yet she couldn’t help feeling that the friendlier Thor was towards her the more Loki would feel that his theory about her interest in  _him_  was somehow justified.

'I’m not much for an excess of wine, your highness,’ she said with a polite smile. He grinned back.

'I confess I’m not for much else at these sorts of affairs.’ Then he sat down beside her and motioned to the paper in her lap which she’d hastily covered with a fold of her gown. 'You’re an artist, then?’

'A poor one, I fear, but I do enjoy it.’ Y/N glanced at him and chewed her bottom lip against an irrational surge of guilt. Against all instinct she rather  _liked_  Thor, who was friendly and cheerful and possessed of an easy self-confidence that was misleadingly charming. He seemed strangely partial to her – most likely merely because she declined to turn into a raging sycophant in his company – and yet all she could really  _see_  of him was an enormous blonde barrier that kept her from finding out more about the darkly intriguing Loki.

'Might I presume to see your work?’ Thor asked with a smile, presumably misinterpreting her nervous mien. 'I assure you I’m a kind critic.’

Right then, looking into his big, affable face, Y/N felt like slapping herself. So some unscrupulous women had misused Loki to get to Thor? Perhaps  _she_  could – more decently – utilise Thor’s assistance for the opportunity to spend time with his handsome brother.

And why not? There was no law against  _befriending_  a son of the crown, after all. With another fleeting look to confirm that the younger prince was still oblivious to his surroundings in favour of his book, Y/N uncovered the sketch but kept her hand casually concealing the verse. Thor exclaimed in surprise and then glanced up, following her line of sight. His grin broadened.

'Loki forever has his head in books, to the exclusion of the rest of the universe. That’s a fine likeness, though. You’ve a talent. ’

'You’re very kind.’ Y/N closed the notebook. 'Forgive me, your highness, but are there not others you should be-’ she groped for a polite term ’-attending to, rather than one youngest daughter of a mere harbour house?’

'Oh, doubtless there are.’ Thor shrugged. 'But I must admit I’m more in the mood today for company that talks, rather than simply emits those-’ he gestured absently ’-strange high pitched noises.’

That made her grin, and she chuckled when he did.

'Perhaps, ah-’ glancing about, he leaned a little closer towards her ’-if your art-making is done for the moment, we might steal somewhere quieter for a time? There’s a side passage that allows for something of a discreet exit.’

It took all Y/N’s self-control not to burst into a distinctly unladylike guffaw at the realisation that she had just been propositioned – albeit in a rather gallant sort of fashion – by Thor Odinson, and would be the envy of more or less every woman in Asgard if they only knew about it.

Oh dear. Well, she’d come this far into a mess so she might as well see it through and salvage what she could of it.

'As you wish, your highness.’ Better not lead the poor man on  _too_  deliberately…she did again risk a glance back at where Loki was sitting as Thor steered her off behind some shrubbery, but the darker-haired prince seemed to have remained oblivious to the entire exchange. Thank goodness.

The promised passageway did indeed allow for a discreet exit from the garden and she permitted Thor to tow her down a short hallway before they emerged onto a secluded balcony which was practically tailor-made for private liaisons. It was on the far side of the palace, she realised, seeing that the view overlooked the distant mountains rather than the ocean and the rainbow ribbon of the Bifrost.

'You’re rather unique, Lady Y/N,’ Thor said, leaning idly on the stonework. 'Very different to your sister indeed. Not that it does you anything but favours.’

'Astrid is very focused on what she  _should_  want, your highness.’ Y/N mirrored him against the opposite pillar. 'At least she fits into the court better than I ever will.’

'Oh, don’t be so sure.’ Straightening, Thor stepped towards her and took one of her hands in both of his, smiling as he brought it to his lips.

'Your highness.’ Y/N pulled free of him and moved to perch on the balustrade, folding both hands firmly in her lap. 'If I may be bold, there is something I desperately need your help with.’

Thor regarded her quizzically, clearly very unaccustomed to meetings with women on balconies taking a conversational turn, but recovered with admirable speed.

'My  _help_?’

'Yes. It is regarding-’ she nibbled at her bottom lip ’-your brother, your highness.’

'Loki?’ Thor’s brow furrowed. 'I hope he has not been causing trouble. Sometimes his so-called  _mischief_  can get a little out of hand.’

'Oh no, nothing like that.’ Although there was an interesting nugget of information for future deliberation. 'I merely wished to…well, to get to know him, but he seems firmly and irrevocably convinced that my interest is borne solely of a desire to use him in some manner to obtain proximity to you. It’s extremely…frustrating.’

'But your interest in him is…for  _him_?’

'Entirely.’ Y/N felt the blush on her cheeks and dropped her eyes. 'In truth, your highness, I find your brother fascinating and – um – extremely attractive.’

When she dared look up again Thor seemed to remain solemn.

'So you in fact let me bring you here, knowing full well my intent, merely so you could question me about my brother’s proclivities?’

Y/N floundered, panicking. He seemed almost  _offended_  by the idea. Then she sagged in relief when he broke into a broad grin and leaned against the stone next to her, folding his arms casually with a dry chuckle.

'My brother is extremely clever, Lady Y/N, but not in  _all_  things. No, no-’ he waved her off with a snort when she opened her mouth ’-I’m not offended. Although I am disappointed,’ he added with a small wink that made her laugh.

'Well, after meeting you  _properly_ , your highness, I’d be lying if I said I could not see your…appeal with the ladies of Asgard.’

'But you prefer your men lean and learned?’ he shot back teasingly. 'To my misfortune, and my brother’s advantage. Still, you say he has spurned you?’

'Even the most basic attempts at conversation.’ Y/N glanced at him, then decided to chance it. 'Your highness, is it true that women have – in the past – pretended affection for your brother merely to manipulate their way closer to you?’

Thor sighed heavily.

'Alas yes. Well, one at least. That I know of. It was only the second year we were properly at court ourselves, and Lady Helgi of the House of Whitefell had Loki so convinced of her affection that he even spoke of asking for her hand. Thank the Norns our father talked him out of it…I recall that I went to speak with her to suggest a gift for Loki’s name-day and she all but threw herself at me the moment we were alone.’ He shook his head. 'Tossed my brother aside like a spent torch. Broke his heart, I think, though he would never admit it.’

'What kind of  _monster_ -’ the exclamation slipped out before Y/N could censor it and she hurriedly closed her mouth, realising that her hands had curled into fists. 'I do beg your pardon, your highness, I did not mean-’

'I should hope you did,’ Thor said good-naturedly. 'It  _was_  monstrous. There’s a reason the House of Whitefell is no longer welcome at court. I escorted Helgi to the gates myself, manipulative harridan that she was. Our mother saw to the rest. Such behaviour is dishonourable and unbecoming of a lady of Asgard, whatever her rank or position.’

'Good.’ Y/N felt obliquely reassured by that, and Thor climbed another few notches in her estimation for his verdict. 'Wretched creature.’ Then she frowned. 'Your brother…implied there had been others.’

'Possibly. I daresay he dealt with them himself.’ Thor gave a one-shouldered shrug. 'Once he realised what had happened his sorrow turned quickly to dread fury at the knowledge he had been manipulated so well. He likes to pride himself on his skill with speech, so being that thoroughly duped was like a dagger to the back.’

'And now he’s so keen not to feel that way again that he rejects out of hand anyone who dares to approach him.’ Y/N toyed idly with the fabric of her gown, shaking her head. 'Poor Loki. He deserved better.’

It only then registered that she’d spoken of the younger prince with such casual familiarity –  _poor Loki_ , as though he were another lad of the harbourfront and not a son of Odin! – but Thor didn’t seem to notice, or care, nodding agreement.

'He did. Of course he’s always had a…wary nature, but I fear after Helgi that it has turned closer to paranoia where ladies of the court are concerned.’

That genuinely saddened Y/N. Poor Loki, indeed. Nobody deserved to have their heart broken, least of all so young and to such a vicious harridan as this Helgi. No wonder he seemed so cynical and outwardly callous. Any lingering frustration began to evaporate, and she wished again that she was a skilled enough wordsmith to somehow convince the younger prince that all the intrigue he held for her was nothing but genuine. If only there was some way to…to  _comfort_  him, reassure him of the wrongness of what Helgi had done. She found herself envisioning holding him in a close embrace, one hand soothing his pale cheek and the other stroking his dark hair.

'Your distress for him is quite touching,’ Thor said. 'I don’t think I’ve ever seen any woman’s face fall so in concern, at least aside from our lady mother.’ He gave her a long look and then seemed to reach a decision. 'At the feast this evening, come to our table. I’ll send for you. Perhaps if you speak to him on other matters, in a livelier setting, he’ll be more willing to listen to whatever else you may have to say.’

It took all Y/N’s willpower not to gape openly at him. An invitation to the Allfather’s table was not lightly given, whatever the circumstances.

'I – uh – I am only from the harbour, your highness.’

'Nonsense.’ Thor waved that off casually. 'If I send for you then nobody will think to question your presence.’ He flashed a wink. 'Surely you have the courage to endure a seated dinner in order to speak with my  _fascinating_  brother?’

That dare, delivered in a tone that was half tease, half challenge, made Y/N laugh again.

'I assure you, your highness, if the need demanded it I would sit at table with Laufey and Surtr both for a chance to speak with your brother.’

Thor broke into a broad grin.

'Then it seems, Lady Y/N, that my brother’s luck with women is  _finally_  starting to look up.’

*

By the time the feast that evening began, Y/N was struggling not to actively fidget in her assigned seat next to Astrid. Of course her sister had no idea of what had transpired during the garden party, Thor having snuck them back in as discreetly as he’d snuck them out in the first place, but that was probably for the best. Now, however, it was halfway through the third course and nothing had happened. Y/N found herself wondering if Thor had forgotten, or perhaps just disregarded a casual promise made to a silly newcomer girl who rejected his advances.

She was so lost in this unpleasant idea that the servant had to actually touch her arm to get her attention.

'Lady Y/N? Prince Thor requests your presence at the Allfather’s table.’

All conversation around them stopped dead and Y/N barely had time to register the stunned stare of her sister – as well as the envious gaping from more or less everyone else in view – before the servant was ushering her to her feet and away.  _Oh, Norns_. Odin was at the head of the table, of course, with Thor on his right and Queen Frigga on his left. Next to Frigga was Loki, and beyond that a line of faces she didn’t recognise in the slightest.

'Lady Y/N! There you are!’ Thor rose to greet her like an old friend with a beaming smile. 'I was concerned we had somehow missed you in the crowd. Father, mother, this is Lady Y/N, daughter of Rohl of the House of Tideward.’

Y/N manged an acceptable curtsy and greeting to the rulers of Asgard, and tried to ignore the nagging feeling that the queen was right on the verge of erupting into raucous laughter.

'You are welcome at our table, Y/N Rohlsdottir,’ Odin said to her, and motioned graciously to the now-empty chair next to Thor. 'Sit.’

She did so, attempting to be graceful, and tried not to gawk openly when the appointed seat turned out to put her directly opposite Prince Loki.

'Well,’ he said, idly taking a sip of wine, ’ _Very_  enterprising, Lady Y/N. Clearly I underestimated you quite severely.’

That stumped her somewhat…but at least he was  _talking_  to her.

'How so, your highness?’

He smirked, leaning very slightly over the table towards her and lowering his voice as if sharing an intimate confidence.

'A seat at the Allfather’s table  _and_  my brother’s side within your first week at court. To contrive so well from a mere  _mention_  of your supposed interest in the lesser son of Odin…well  _done_.’ Then he lifted his cup to her in a mocking salute and sat back, still grinning unpleasantly.

'Do you think so little of yourself,  _your highness_ ,’ Y/N half-hissed back, 'That you cannot envision  _anyone_  seeking you for your own sake?’

He chuckled, but it wasn’t a friendly sound.

'Ah, but do take care that your commitment to your act doesn’t inadvertently cost you the real prize, now. That would be a tremendous shame.’

'You’re incorrigible,’ she muttered.

The rest of the meal turned out to be rather interminable. Although Thor, to his lasting credit, tried to make polite conversation sufficiently that Y/N wasn’t left sitting in silence, Loki essentially talked around her as though she was one of the hall’s stone columns…when he spoke at all, which wasn’t very much.

Finally it was over but before Y/N could flee the hall altogether, not being much in the mood for the usual post-feast festivities, someone caught her elbow.

'Do not despair, Lady Y/N.’ Thor gave her a wink. 'I’ve another idea, perhaps a better one. Make sure you aren’t too hard to find.’

What exactly he meant by that Y/N had absolutely no idea, but at any rate she was sitting with Astrid and several of her sister’s friends in an antechamber one afternoon a few days later when a messenger admitted himself and bowed politely to them all.

'I have an invitation for Lady Y/N Rohlsdottir from Prince Thor, asking that she join him and his companions in the western Solar for the evening meal at sixth bell.’

Y/N looked up from what she was doing in mild astonishment. The western Solar in the palace was colloquially known as the Princes’ Hall, since it was used almost exclusively by the sons of Odin as something halfway between a private parlour and a smaller feasting hall.

'First the Allfather’s table, and now  _this_!’ Astrid grabbed at her arm excitedly. 'Y/N, this is  _beyond amazing_  – I’ll have to send a message to Mother-’

'You’ll do no such thing, thank you!’ Y/N put her book down and stood, inclining her head to acknowledge the messenger. 'Please tell Prince Thor that I would be delighted to attend.’

'Of course, my lady.’ The man departed without further comment, but nothing would do in the intervening time but for Astrid to drag Y/N back to their quarters and spend the next three hours fussing over every possible aspect of her appearance.

'At this rate you’ll be turning  _into_  Mother,’ Y/N exclaimed, trying not to giggle. In a way it was rather touching – like most women in the palace Astrid was utterly smitten with Thor, but seemed to think nothing at all of encouraging her younger sister’s presumed success at having attracted the attentions of the golden-haired prince. In truth Y/N’s heart was hammering –  _and his companions_ clearly meant that his brother would be present, and she wasn’t sure whether to be excited at the prospect of seeing Loki again or nervous that he would merely find some new way to snub her.

She did, however, insist on wearing one of her less elaborate gowns in dark green and gold. Firstly because of the colours, of course, and secondly because Astrid would have otherwise insisted on sending her in something that would constitute almost embarrassing overdress for a much less formal evening meal.

'I  _really_  think that red would be more appropriate,’ her sister complained, 'And something at least a  _little_  more ornate…’

'The prince invited me to an evening meal, not a grand feast,’ Y/N said, slapping Astrid’s hand away with a grin. 'I don’t want to be sitting there afraid to  _move_.’

'But this is more a  _riding_  dress than something for dinner…’

'It’s fine! And if you fuss any more I’ll be late!’

Finally escaping, Y/N did have to ask a passing einherjar for directions but he kindly escorted her to the wide archway that led to the western Solar. She lurked for a moment, hearing laughter and conversation from within, and finally dared to peek through the doorway. The room was dominated by the long table in its centre, though the surface was curiously shaped and there was a carven gold dragon head at each end. The area for the table was sunken a little into the floor, surrounded by steps up to the level of the rest of the palace and the expansive open balcony that ran along the entirety of the far side of the room, where several large torches also burned. Weapons racks and bookcases were littered around the other walls, interspersed with decorative plants and comfortable-looking chairs.

Large as it was, however, the room was occupied by only five people. Although she recognised Lady Sif, Lord Volstagg, Lord Fandral and Prince Thor, Y/N’s eye was drawn inevitably towards the slender figure of Loki, seated on one of the table’s benches with his back to the door.

'Lady Y/N!’

Thor strode across to greet her with evident glee, but she was doubly glad she’d not given in to Astrid’s persistence on the matter of her gown since he was clearly attired for a less formal gathering, as were the others.

'Good evening, your highness.’ She deliberately did not curtsy; damned if she was going to resort to airs and graces this evening.

'You didn’t say we’d be having a guest, Thor.’ Fandral offered her a gallant bow. 'Let alone one so fair and charming!’

'Try to restrain yourself, Fandral. I’m sure the lady considers herself spoken for.’ That was Loki, glancing back with a knowing smirk.

'Is that an offer, your highness?’ Y/N shot back before she could control herself. Volstagg roared with laughter and even Sif cracked a grin. Thor shook his head in amusement and gestured to indicate that she join them at the table.

'Do sit. We dwell on little ceremony here.’

Inclining her head, she followed him back across to the table and, very deliberately, settled onto the bench next to Loki. He offered a bland smile and picked up an empty goblet, lifting a nearby flagon to pour some wine in before sliding it towards her.

'Be wary, Lady Y/N. My brother likes his liquor  _potent_. It wouldn’t do for you to drop your mask, now, would it?’

She took a small sip – it was indeed quite strong, but still full-bodied enough not to suffer a lack of flavour – and smiled back in a similar vein.

'I wouldn’t want to embarrass you by speaking my mind too openly, your highness.’

’ _Embarrass_  me?’ He grinned. 'I hardly see any reason for that where you’re concerned.’

'Is that a challenge?’

'To embarrass me, or yourself?’

'Loki, be  _nice_ ,’ Thor interjected in a reproving tone. 'I invited this fair lady here  _specifically_  so she could speak with  _you_ , you know!’

'Oh-ho!’ Fandral took a sip from his own cup and winked at Y/N. 'Thor, you cannot be suggesting that the lady’s tastes run more to mischief than manliness?’

'Says the lord wearing the silk doublet at table,’ Y/N retorted, rather affronted at the intimation since it echoed Astrid’s earlier verdict. Loki, however, seemed to find the suggestion more amusing than offensive and was chuckling quietly.

'She has you there, Fandral,’ Sif put in dryly.

'At least I don’t do  _magic_ ,’ Fandral shot back good naturedly, raising his eyebrows at Y/N as though the comment were a shared joke between them. Then he jumped as what looked suspiciously like a small green snake slithered from the top of his cup and landed on his plate, giving a low hiss.

’ _Loki_ ,’ Sif said wearily.

Loki grinned unashamedly and made a quick gesture with one hand, at which the snake evaporated with a brief shimmer of emerald light.

’ _That_  was a waste of wine,’ Fandral said to him, reaching for the flagon. 'But still, as I was  _saying_ -’

'Oh, I’m quite confident there’s nothing even  _remotely_  enchanting about you, Lord Fandral,’ Y/N replied calmly, taking another drink of wine. Volstagg burst into fresh laughter and thumped the table, making everything rattle.

'Alert the realms! We’ve found a woman other than Sif who doesn’t fall for Fandral the Dashing!’

'It’s still early, my friend,’ Fandral said to him with a grin, and beamed at Y/N. 'I’m told, my lady, that I grow on people.’

'Save your breath, my lord. I prefer a man with clever hands.’

'You  _are_  a live one, aren’t you? Wherever did you find her, Thor?’

'Pining after my brother in the gardens,’ Thor said with a laugh. 'More’s the pity.’

’ _Pining_  after  _Loki_?’ Volstagg exclaimed.

'I suppose one son of Odin is as good as another to less discerning eyes,’ Loki commented in a droll tone, rolling his eyes.

'Perhaps not all of those at court are as obtuse as you think,’ Thor replied, catching Y/N’s eye and giving her a small wink.

'Oh, I would  _never_  accuse any of the ladies of Asgard of being  _obtuse_ , brother,’ Loki replied somewhat acidly. 'Far from it, in fact. Most of those I’ve met at court could be politely called shrewd.’

'And impolitely?’ Y/N asked.

'Careful, now,’ Fandral said to Loki with a chortle.

'I’m sure there’s no need to be overly delicate.’ Y/N cocked her head. 'Are the words  _scheming, manipulative whores_  perhaps edging their way into your thoughts, your highness?’

Volstaff coughed and hurriedly put down his drink but Sif gave a bark of laughter.

'An accurate summation, if I’m any judge. Here’s to indelicacy,’ she added, raising her goblet in clear salute. Y/N grinned and returned the gesture, obliquely glad that she’d raised a comment from the other woman. All of the ladies of Asgard knew something of the way of the sword, of course, but Sif was one of only a very scarce few who had elected to dedicate herself fully to the life of a warrior.

'And here the last woman I met from the harbourfront was a borderline prude,’ Fandral said laughingly. 'Clearly the House of Tideward has been concealing its finest assets.’

'It might have been my elder sister, Lord Fandral. Though hardly a prude I know  _she_  only has eyes for Prince Thor.’

'The poor thing must be  _pining_ , then,’ he shot back with an irrepressible grin. 'Perhaps I should seek her out and offer some consolation-’

'My sister has a kinder heart than I but I still think she’d get your measure  _very_  quickly, my lord,’ Y/N said with a too-sweet smile.

'Oh, really?’ He half leaned over the table towards her. 'And what  _measure_  would this be?’

A couplet popped into Y/N’s head, making her grin, and she was unable to resist.

’ _A daring rake, honour unbound; one lady lost, five ladies found_.’

The others all broke out into roars of laughter as Fandral sat back, shaking his head but seeming unable to help his own chuckles.

'You can’t claim that is less than accurate, my friend!’ Thor clapped him on the shoulder and then looked back at Y/N with new interest. 'I’ve seen your sketches, but I didn’t know you were also a wordsmith.’ He broke into a surprisingly boyish grin. 'Have you any more verses for us, perhaps?’

'Well, I…’ Y/N chewed her bottom lip for a moment, but – as so often happened – now she’d uttered one rhyme, others were already building themselves in her mind. Turning towards Sif, she was somewhat pleased to see the shieldwoman’s expression shift to interest.

’ _Courageous beauty, fair in might; to friends a boon, to foes a blight_.’

Sif laughed and inclined her head graciously.

'Kind words. I thank you.’

'How come Sif gets compliments and I get verbal assassination?’ Fandral complained.

Y/N glanced at Volstagg, who was halfway through what had to be the third boar hock since she’d arrived, and forced herself to keep a straight face.

’ _Stout of arm, with stouter gut; unfasting, lest the hall be shut_.’

This got roars of laughter, including from Volstagg himself.

'Well now you  _must_  do Thor and Loki,’ he added when he’d mopped the mead from his beard. 'Or are the sons of the throne not worthy of such tribute?’

'If the sons of the throne care to be bored by my little twiddles.’ Y/N said, addressing Thor. He beamed and gestured encouragement.

'By all means!’

’ _Of golden thunder, strength and grace; always with smiles upon his face_.’ She pitched her tone at appropriately droll for the second line but still had to confess to being mildly gratified when Thor’s grin turned almost blushing in response.

'How charming,’ Loki said, his voice positively dripping with scorn. 'Did it take you long to think that up, or have you whole reams of poetry about my brother all ready to recite?’

Y/N looked right at him.

’ _A raven prince of subtle art; yet too afraid to bare his heart_.’

'Ouch,’ Sif said, raising her eyebrows. 'Consider yourself reprimanded, Loki.’

'I am most thoroughly chastised,’ he replied lightly, and then surprised Y/N by indicating the serving platters on the table before them. 'But now you have serenaded us all you must eat, Lady Y/N, lest the hospitality of this hall be called into question.’

Thor heartily agreed, seeming to have recovered himself somewhat, and promptly prodded Volstagg into retelling a story from the Battle of Harokin, which rapidly turned to chaos as Sif tried to steer the narrative away from hyperbole towards whatever had  _actually_  happened. Y/N listened and ate – the food seemed even better than it had at the Allfather’s table, possibly because she was relaxed enough now to enjoy it properly – and tried not to be so hyper-aware of Loki’s presence next to her.

Of course her efforts proved in vain, especially when he leaned in near to her to laugh at something, or brushed her forearm with his by reaching for the wine flagon. The table – and the bench – were more than large enough not to necessitate such closeness. Was he perhaps toying with her,  _testing_  her somehow, expecting her to recoil from his proximity and thus reveal what he was so convinced were her true feelings?

The notion made her both angry at his stubbornness and saddened by his distrust. What wouldn’t she give to track down this not-a-lady Helgi and give her several pieces of her mind! But such thoughts of ire didn’t do anyone much good, so Y/N instead tried to put her infatuation aside and concentrate on just trying to  _engage_  with Loki.

Perhaps, she thought vaguely, he would turn out to be an unlikeable bore as well as an obstinate pessimist, and that would put paid to her entire interest in him regardless.

This, however, turned out to not be the case. Loki was witty, astute – except, she thought grimly, in matters he deemed to have a foregone conclusion – knowledgeable about a great many things and undeniably possessed of the capacity to be thoroughly charming if he so chose. He had just as many stories of battle and adventure as the others, although his retellings more often involved his own use of magic or cunning to get his companions out of some trouble they’d found themselves in, and he was a far more eloquent speaker than his brother. In fact Y/N’s suspicion that Loki was by far the more intelligent of the sons of Odin gained considerable weight that evening, even if she felt a little guilty at the implied slight to Thor, who had been nothing but kind to her.

As the night closed in fully Volstagg was the first to loudly declare that he was for bed, although they were welcome to stay up all night storytelling if they chose. He nodded a goodnight to everyone, clouted Thor companionably on the shoulder and then strode out of the hall with a resounding belch that ought to have made the pillars shake.

'Perhaps I should escort you back to your chambers, Lady Y/N,’ Fandral offered laughingly, 'Lest Volstagg’s flatulence ambush you in the hallways…’

'Oh no, Fandral. Do permit me.’ Loki abruptly stood and offered a half bow, which made her heart leap into her throat. 'If the lady wishes, that is?’

'Thank you, your highness.’ Y/N rose and followed him to the doorway, but did not miss Thor catching her eye with a broad grin of unbridled enthusiasm. She flashed a grateful smile and then had to hasten her steps to keep up with Loki’s long strides. He certainly didn’t seem to be aiming for an intimate stroll, keeping up a pace brisk enough to forestall attempts at conversation until they were almost at her chamber.

'Well  _done_ ,’ he said without preamble, stopping by the door but making no move to open it. 'You really do have Thor quite convinced of your affections. The poetry was a nice touch. I’m almost  _impressed_  by your dedication. However you may wish to hasten your end game…which I presume will be some sort of winsome realisation that I will never return your supposed feelings, leaving my  _dear_  brother as your only source of comfort.’

Y/N felt her fists clench and forcibly relaxed them.

'I know she broke your heart, your highness. That…that  _woman_ , Helgi. But I am  _not_  her, however adamantly you refuse to see it.’

'Even convincing my brother to share confidences?’ he sneered. 'You’re a masterful little witch, aren’t you?’

'If you want to hate me, at least hate me for what I  _am_  and not just what you  _think_  I am,’ she exclaimed. 'I’ve heard others call you a master liesmith – surely if your skill is so great you must be able to see  _truth_  as well!’

'Mind your tongue, little witch. My brother isn’t here to witness your zeal, and I’ll certainly not report it back to him.’ Loki gestured to her door and gave her another bow, this one clearly mocking in its manner. 'Good luck again with your endeavour. Kindly keep it away from my meals in future, given how it turns the stomach.’

He turned and was gone before Y/N could summon any coherent response, leaving her fuming to the point of tears. She stormed into her chamber and threw herself onto the bed, burying her face in the pillow to stifle the sound of her weeping.  _Why_ , of all the cruelties, had the fates seen fit to bestow this upon her? Her anger and frustration at Loki’s wilful ignorance of her interest in him roared for her to spurn him in turn, to abandon an idea that seemed nothing but poison, but an inexplicably persistent softness in her heart would not permit her to banish him from her thoughts, resolute in the feeling that his bitter distrust was not an immovable part of his nature and simply a scar, old but deep, left by the thrice-bedamned Helgi of Whitefell.

She fielded Astrid’s exhaustive questioning about the evening almost on autopilot for much of the following day, especially when they went down to wait with most of the rest of the court for the Allfather’s hunting party to return. Of course the moment Thor climbed down from his horse he was surrounded by his usual comet-trail of admirers, but Y/N purposefully moved away from her sister’s side and craned her neck about until she spotted Loki.

He looked stunning in the bright sun of the courtyard, his dark hair looser than usual, flowing in the breeze around cheeks flushed with exertion. The light played patterns over his black and green garb and for a long moment Y/N indulged in a fantasy of running to his side as he dismounted, to kiss him in greeting, take his hands and be pulled into his arms.

She noted with interest how he glanced over at his brother – hardly visible in the surrounding crush – and the barest flicker of resentment briefly crossed his face before he once again schooled his features into neutrality. Pulling off his riding gloves with abrupt, snappish movements, he passed the reins of his horse to a nearby equerry and slipped away towards the palace, unremarked and unnoticed by more or less everyone else in the courtyard.

Righteous anger flared in Y/N’s chest. Wretched Asgard! Did  _nobody_  see him? Whirling, she stalked back inside and resisted the urge to kick fruitlessly at a nearby pillar. Returning to her chambers, confident that Astrid would not be back for some time, she rummaged for her notebook and began to draw with quick, deft lines, keen to capture the likeness of that instant of bitterness, a too-brief view behind the mask of disinterest. It was not a pleasing drawing – she’d depicted the unhappiness on his face well enough that her heart ached to look at it – and stirred such melancholy in her that she found herself scribing a small verse next to it as well.

 _A lonely ghost of aspect fair_  
Jade are his eyes, and jet his hair  
His smile as pale as autumn’s sun  
To sight unseen, to love unwon.

Closing the book and tossing it aside in frustration, she went to sit by the window. Everything in her wanted to seek Loki out, to throw her arms around him and tell him that he was  _not_  second best in anything, not to all eyes, over and over until she was hoarse. But he’d not hear her. Or if he did, he’d assume it was some part of this nefarious scheme he believed her to be plotting to somehow gain his brother’s affections.

By the time the bell sounded for the evening meal in the great hall, she’d torn a single sheet of parchment from her notebook, inscribed another verse upon it with great care and folded it into her bodice. Perhaps prevailing upon the elder prince’s kindness once more was bold enough to be thought insubordinate, but she didn’t care.

The meal was interminable, listening to Astrid and her friends cooing over the little snippets of story or rumour they’d brought back from speaking with the hunting parties – mostly about Thor – but when she saw the unmistakeable golden-haired prince moving towards the side door with his brother and usual companions Y/N slipped away down the side passage that led to the western Solar. Daringly she reached out and caught the edge of Thor’s crimson cloak as he passed, giving enough of a tug – she hoped – for him to notice.

'Go on, my friends, I’ll join you in a moment.’

Y/N waited until the others had vanished into the smaller hall before emerging from the nook where she’d concealed herself. Thor broke into a grin.

'Lady Y/N!’ He motioned towards the door. 'Will you join us?’

'I think I had better not, but thank you.’ She fidgeted a moment, nervous. 'Your highness, you’ve been nothing but considerate, but…may I dare to ask a favour of you?’

'Of course,’ he said without even a hint of hesitation. 'Anything.’

Relieved, Y/N took out the folded paper and held it out to him.

'This is for your brother. I fear if it came from a servant he would merely discard it, and if I gave it to him myself I  _know_  he would…but perhaps if it came from your hand…?’

A small frown creased Thor’s brow as he opened the fold, but before she could ask him not to, he read out the contents in a bemused tone.

’ _As emerald dark he moves unseen,_  
A shadow cast in gold and green  
In furtive haste on tasks unknown  
The quiet son of Asgard’s throne  
Is overlooked by all at whim  
But still my eyes see only him.’

'It came to me after the hunt returned today,’ Y/N said, trying – and failing – not to blush at his obvious approval of the ditty. 'I just…even last night he seemed so  _determined_  to believe that I have nothing but the worst intentions…’

'He’s a determined fool,’ Thor said with a rueful smile, but refolded the paper and tucked it away in his tunic. 'I’ll see that he receives this. And reads it, with the attention it is due.’

'Thank you, your highness.’ Y/N dipped her head and risked a small smile in return. 'I fear I’ll never be able to repay your many kindnesses.’

'Think nothing of it, dear lady. Would that I had strength enough to strike the blindness from my brother’s head…but alas, I think even Mjolnir’s might would be insufficient for such a task.’

That made her laugh, and in a moment of pure daring – rather bolstered by an unexpected but not unwelcome surge of fondness for the elder prince – Y/N lifted her chin to give Thor a firm kiss on the cheek before hurrying away.

*

Two days later, Y/N was sitting alone in what had become her favoured spot in the upper north corridor. She’d sketched the ocean and the city for a little before returning to her favourite subject, and the form of Loki sitting astride his dun-brown horse, the sun on his hair and a flush upon his cheeks, was taking shape steadily on a fresh page.

'Lady Y/N?’

Glancing up, she smiled in greeting at the sight of Prince Thor striding towards her. He must have been on the training grounds today, since he was in full armoured regalia and cloak which was, she had to admit, extremely impressive.

'Good day, your highness.’

'I must speak with you,’ he said urgently, all but rounding on her. 'Please.’

'Of course.’ Alarmed, Y/N swung her legs down and stood up. 'What is it?’

'It is about my brother.’ Thor sighed. 'I gave him the verse, as you asked, but – is there anything I can say,  _anything_  I can do to turn your thoughts from him? I cannot stand by and watch you spend yourself in longing for one who cares so little for your heart. Not when-’ he paused and swallowed hard, reaching out as if to touch her but then seeming to think better of it ’-not when you already hold mine so firmly in your hands.’

Y/N felt her jaw drop.

'Y-  _your_  heart?’

'Yes.’ Thor’s gaze was disarmingly earnest. 'I find myself thinking of you more and more, when I least expect to. You’re so fair, and brave, and  _different_  from all the others-’

'But-’ Y/N was lost in panic and couldn’t think of how to continue.

'The verse you gave me, it spins in my head so often.’ Thor beamed. ’ _Of golden thunder, strength and grace; always with smiles upon his face._  All my smiles of late have been because of you, Lady Y/N.  _Please_ , will you not forget my fool brother and walk with me awhile? Let me show you what a true prince of Asgard can be.’

'Your highness, I-’ she was beyond appalled, and horrible guilt was also making itself known ’-I’m so sorry. You’ve been so kind to me, and gracious, and I did not mean to – to lead you on. Truly. If I’d had even the slightest idea that-’

'You wish me to beg?’ Thor asked. 'I will gladly get on my knees before the entire court and plead for your heart, if that is what it will take.’

'Oh –  _no_!’ Y/N exclaimed. 'I would never – I mean –  _no_! I – I’m so sorry, I can’t – I  _don’t_ -’ she bit her lower lip and shook her head ’-your highness, you seem a fine man but…you are not your brother. I – I think I should go,’ she added hurriedly when his face fell into such profound disappointment that it was as if he’d struck her.

Clutching her sketchbook, she gathered her skirts and made for her room at a run, ignoring his cries of protesting entreaty from behind her. It took half an age to reach her chamber and she hastened inside to close the door, leaning on it and sliding to the floor with a gasp. Tears streaked down her cheeks. Wicked,  _hateful_  fate! She’d never in ten thousand lifetimes wanted to cause Thor any distress – even if he held no attraction for her as a potential partner she still thought a great deal of him – and how could she  _possibly_  continue her fascination with Loki, futile as it still seemed, now that she knew his brother felt as he did?

Seized by a sudden resolution, Y/N good to her feet and found her travel chest, dragging it out of the storage nook into the middle of the room. She’d been nothing but trouble for both sons of the crown since her arrival in court. So she would simply leave, return to the harbour where she belonged, and do her best to forget them both.

Her gaze fell upon her sketchbook, filled now almost to the last page and nearly all of it Loki. Better to leave it behind, or perhaps burn it…no, she couldn’t bring herself to throw it on the fire. It could stay on the mantle to gather dust and rot, and with luck someone else would discard it for her.

Sniffling, still dashing tears from her eyes, Y/N began to pack.

*

Loki was confused.

After receiving the verse from Y/N Rohlsdottir – delivered of course by Thor, all the better to ensure that his brother witnessed the supposed richness of her affections – he’d resolved to bring the blasted women’s plan to a pre-emptive close before her machinations shifted fully in his estimation from entertaining to irritating.

The speediest way to bring the façade to its inevitable conclusion had been to don the appearance of Thor – a trivial matter for a master of magic such as himself – and then simply extrapolate from his brother’s obvious partiality for Y/N to have the favoured prince of Asgard bare his heart and declare undying love for her. She would fall for it, seeing her ambitions realised more rapidly than she had calculated, upon which Loki would reveal himself and derive  _great_  enjoyment from the chaos that ensued.

It was a sound plan, but had fallen down entirely when she’d for some reason insisted on keeping up her pretence of interest in Loki himself, to the point of fleeing entirely from the false Thor in distressed tears.

If he hadn’t been so annoyed at his neat scheme falling through, Loki would have had to admit being thoroughly impressed with her diligence and commitment to the act.

Now, however, after having double and triple-checked the glamour he’d cast to be sure that it hadn’t faltered and given his trick away, he found himself pacing testily around his chambers in a rather ill temper. He’d have to resort to some other ploy to wring the truth from her. Hmm. Since she was so fond of the written word, perhaps a note from Thor begging forgiveness for having upset her in the corridor and pleading with her to attend the Princes’ Hall again this evening…delivered by his brother, of course, with entreaties to bespeak the lady on his behalf…

Grinning, Loki went to his desk and found an appropriate piece of parchment. He’d been able to flawlessly imitate Thor’s handwriting for centuries now; getting the words themselves at a believable level of simple inarticulateness was more of a challenge. The fifth bell sounded just as he finished.

Perfect. The ladies would be retiring to their individual chambers to prepare for dinner.

Pausing only long enough to wipe the anticipatory grin off his face, Loki pocketed the false note and strode towards the southern wing’s guest quarters, barely resisting the urge to whistle in happy anticipation. Finding Y/N’s door, he schooled his expression to neutral concern – for his heartsick brother, of course – and knocked with an appropriate level of urgency.

The door swung open as his hand met it, revealing the chamber beyond to be clearly empty.

Puzzled – and again irritated at having his idea thwarted – Loki stepped inside and glanced about curiously. The room wasn’t just empty, but  _vacant_ , clearly divested of any of the trappings of its former resident.

She’d left.

Why?

Frowning, he cast about and spotted a well-worn, leather-covered sketchpad that was instantly recognisable. Odd. He’d never seen her without it, so why would she leave it behind now? Crossing to the mantle where it had been left, he picked it up and let fall open to a random page.

Seeing the image of himself, relaxed and at ease with a book in his hands in the palace gardens, made him pause. It was an excellent likeness, rendered well and with obvious care. Then his eye fell on the words written alongside.

 _No prayer can move, no plea can sway_  
He who would read his cares away  
Still, as I look on his fair face  
I wish only for his embrace.

Ah, sketches and love poetry. Something to show to Thor, no doubt. He smirked slightly and turned the page to the next drawing.

And the next.

And the next.

Five minutes later he sat down hard on the end of the bed, staring in blank astonishment at the last – and presumably most recent – picture. It was of himself, again, but this time in a sitting pose as though he were at table, a goblet in his hand and a somewhat brooding look on his face. Another verse was scribbled next to it.

 _The sun lights up his ebon crown,_  
A handsome mien of deepest thought  
But his face suffers in a frown  
Why can he not smile as he ought?

Loki found himself tracing a finger down the render of his own cheekbone in something like wonder, his heart in his mouth. Dozens… _scores_  of drawings, most of him, and  _not a single one of Thor_!

'Your highness?’

He glanced up, snapping the book shut on reflex. Another woman – Y/N’s elder sibling, he dimly recalled – was standing in the doorway, looking understandably befuddled at his presence in the empty chamber.

'Can I…um…help you?’ she asked hesitantly.

'I’m looking for Lady Y/N.’ Affecting nonchalance, Loki stood up. 'You’re her sister, are you not?’

'Yes, your highness. My name is Astrid.’

'This is hers?’ he added, holding up the sketchbook.

'Oh – yes.’ Astrid blinked, clearly surprised. 'She must have forgotten it behind when packing. She left in – um – rather a hurry.’

'Left?’

'Yes, your highness. Earlier this afternoon she returned to our home.’

'Why?’

'She…took ill.’ That was a lie, and not a very good one.

'I’m sorry to hear that. I…have a message for her. From my brother.’

'Oh.’ Astrid hesitated. 'Well, I’d be happy to pass it on, your highness-’

'No need. I’ll take it to her myself…and see that this is returned to her,’ Loki added, tucking the sketchbook under his arm and hastening past her into the corridor before she could summon the wherewithal to protest. He was being somewhat high handed, son of Odin or not, but he wanted – he  _needed_  – to look at the contents further.

Back in his chambers, he settled into the chair at his desk and opened the book in front of him. It was undoubtedly not Y/N’s first such volume, judging by her skill and obviously practiced hand, but clearly filling it had taken up the majority of her time since she’d come to court.

Filling it with  _him_.

He’d never seen himself through another’s eyes like this before. Although in simple terms the sketches were as accurate as looking into a mirror, under Y/N’s pencil he was truly a  _prince_ , bright-eyed and regal, with sable hair that flowed handsomely around finely-chiselled features. Not even a hint of the gawking, long-limbed and narrow-faced boy who’d failed to fill out and grow into his own rangy form. Every snapshot exuded grace and nobility.

Was this how she  _saw_  him?

A light knock roused him from his bemusement and he glanced back to see his mother enter the room looking mildly concerned.

'You missed dinner. What  _have_  you been doing?’

Loki blinked in surprise and glanced at the balcony, where it was dark. He didn’t even remember turning on his lamp against the gathering dusk, although evidently he had. Frigga crossed the room and peered over his shoulder at the book, which was currently open to a particularly striking rendering of him in what looked like mid-chuckle, presumably from a mental image that Y/N had taken during the meal in the western Solar. The facing page had another verse on it.

 _A melody his laugh, his voice,_  
A work of art, his smile.  
His eyes, the shade of verdant tree,  
Beneath I’d sit a while  
In happiness under his gaze  
My eager heart aflame,  
But fire burns yet in his breast  
Which is not mine to tame.

'My goodness,’ his mother said after a moment. 'What a remarkable likeness! And a wordsmith as well…whose hand is that?’

'Lady Y/N Rohlsdottir, of the House of Tideward,’ Loki replied, turning the page to the next spread which was covered with miniature sketches of him in various moments and poses.

'And to think how you sulked when I asked you to sit half an hour for the palace artisan,’ Frigga teased gently, glancing at him for permission before lifting the book up to look through it. ’ _Well_ , this Lady Y/N certainly seems to have found her muse…although I thought it was Thor who invited her to our table at the last feast?’

'It was.’ Loki snorted. 'And to the Solar last week.’

'I see.’ Frigga turned another sheet. 'There’s a page missing here. Torn out?’

'Yes.’ He pulled out the verse Thor had given him – he’d been carrying it with him, fully intending to hurl it mockingly into Y/N’s face upon confronting her – and passed it over. His mother laid it back into the book and smoothed the creases down with a small smile.

'Even if she caught your brother’s eye, it would seem her own interest lay firmly with you.’

Loki buried his face in his hands, suddenly overwhelmed with the sheer magnitude of his own stubborn stupidity.

'I was  _so_  certain she’d pretended interest in me just to get to Thor. I spurned her, openly, mocked her for her cunning, even  _disguised_  myself as him so I could trick her into a confession…’

Frigga sat down on the edge of his desk and listened intently as the whole sorry tale spilled out. Then she gave a deep sigh and a sad little laugh.

'Oh,  _Loki_. Helgi cut you deeper than you knew, didn’t she?’

’ _Helgi_  is hardly the only woman who has tried to reach Thor through me,’ Loki said bitterly. 'But Y/N…she tried to tell me a dozen times, and at each one I scorned her as a liar…’

'Not to mention scaring her away with a false confession from a false Thor,’ Frigga added with marked disapproval. 'An underhanded plan at best, son of mine.’

'I know,’ he said miserably. 'She seemed so smart, with the most playful sense of humour…and I wrote her off instantly as just another scheming shrew. I’m a fool and a blackguard.’ Scrubbing his hands back through his hair, he shook his head in despair. 'And now she is gone from court, which is  _my_  doing, and I will likely never see her again.’

'Are you afraid of the harbourfront?’

'What?’ He glanced up with a frown. 'Of course not.’

'Then, son of mine, why not get your horse and ride down to the House of Tideward to tell her the truth, explain how you have come to your senses and beg her forgiveness? Not to mention return this, which belongs to her.’ Frigga swatted him lightly over the head with the sketchbook and then dropped it into his hands. 'Unless you would rather simply wallow here in self-pity, reading poetry written for you by a lovely young woman whom you saw fit to send fleeing this palace in a panic that was entirely undeserved.’ She smiled to soften the reprimand. 'Invite her back to court, Loki. It will be a simple matter to explain away her brief absence as some little thing at home that required the attendance of the younger daughter of Lord Rohl. If it will help, tell her that your mother  _insists_ she return. I would very much like to properly meet the woman perceptive enough to see past your brother’s thunder and covet  _your_  attention.’

*

Less than ten minutes later, leaving a rather bewildered pair of einherjar at the palace gates to wonder were in all the realms the younger prince could be going at such a late hour, Loki urged his stallion Sinir into a gallop down the main thoroughfare of the city. Y/N’s book sat in one saddlebag, and an early blooming burgundy  _hækkaði_  from his mother’s garden was tucked carefully into the other. His heart was pounding with exhilaration, for now drowning out the lingering worry of rejection, and he found himself rather fervently praying that his skill with speech craft would not desert him today, of all days.

Some passing revellers outside a tavern were able to direct him to the House of Tideward, which was a small estate indeed compared with the sprawling, palatial holdings more common to noble families of the upper terraces near the palace. The gardens of the compound backed straight onto the water, giving a remarkable and unusual view beneath the looming rainbow of the Bifrost bridge directly to the sea of stars beyond.

A steward came to the gates, hearing Sinir’s hoof beats, and boggled openly at the sight of a son of Odin arriving in his household’s courtyard.

'Forgive my haste, friend,’ Loki said, dismounting and carefully pocketing the  _hækkaði_  so as not to crush it, before retrieving the sketchbook from his other saddlebag, 'I’m here to see the Lady Y/N, if you might tell me where she is?’

'In – uh – the gardens, your highness,’ the servant blurted, hurriedly taking Sinir’s reins. 'Through the gate there, and down the side of the house-’

'I see it. Thank you.’ Loki hastened in the direction indicated without further comment – let the man fuss and prattle to his lord on his own time, if he must – following the bulwark of polished white stone until the path opened into a cobbled piazza bordered with plant-laden trellises. Sitting on a low wall between two posts – much as he recalled often seeing her perch between pillars on the balconies at the palace – was Y/N, her legs stretched out in front of her and hands folded loosely in her lap. The light from the nearby lamps reflected off the rippling water to cast a strangely ethereal pattern across her face and hair.

He slowed his pace to take more deliberate steps but had to force himself not to stop short when she glanced up, hearing someone approaching. Her brows creased briefly in surprise and she made to move.

'Don’t get up,’ Loki said quickly, half-extending a hand in entreaty. 'Please. I’m the intruder here.’

She stopped, but did not resume her more relaxed pose.

'Your highness…?’

'You left this at the palace.’ He took her sketchbook from under his arm and held it out to her. Warily, as though expecting him to renege the offer, she rose to take it and then perched back on the edge of the wall, hugging the book to her chest.

'Thank you.’

'And I brought you this.’ He withdrew the  _hækkaði_  from his coat and proffered it to her with a low bow of his head. 'I’m quite certain that I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ve come to ask it of you nonetheless.’

'My…forgiveness?’ Y/N was gawking at the bloom as if she expected it to bite her. 'For what?’

'The…encounter you had with Thor earlier today, on the balcony.’ Loki swallowed hard and forced himself to go on. 'It wasn’t Thor. It was me. I used a spell to disguise myself as my brother, planning to…to catch you out and put an end to what I  _thought_  was your clever scheme.’

She stared at him with an entirely unreadable expression.

’ _Why_?’

'I thought to trick you.’ Aware that he was still holding the  _hækkaði_  out, almost defensively, Loki lowered his arm. 'That if you heard those words from Thor’s mouth, in Thor’s voice, you would give up your ruse for what you really wanted. For what – for what I  _thought_ you really wanted.’

Her eyes were wide but she didn’t speak and he found himself fumbling his own words.

'I’ve done it before, with the others. The others like Helgi, I mean. I don’t regret that. But I was wrong, wrong about you, and when I did it to you it wasn’t clever. It was monstrous. And I’m so,  _so_ sorry.’

She continued to stare at him, gripping the edges of the sketchbook so hard that her knuckles had gone white.

'Please,’ he pleaded, 'Say  _something_. Scream if you want. Strike me! You’ve earned that.’

'Did he know?’ she asked in a whisper.

'What do you mean?’

'Thor. Did he know what you were doing?’

'Oh. Gods, no.’ Loki grimaced at the notion. 'He’d be furious if he found out. He really does seem rather fond of you. Although not,’ he hastily added, 'To the point of begging for your favour.’ When that didn’t elicit anything further he pressed on, in growing desperation. 'I went to find you, at fifth bell, but your room was empty. Your sister said you’d left court, but-’ he motioned to the book in her arms ’-I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that, so finding it on the mantle was unexpected. Why did you leave it behind?’

'I wanted to burn it,’ she said quietly. 'But…I couldn’t bring myself to.’ Then, more nervously, 'You looked through it, didn’t you?’

He nodded slowly.

'Nobody…nobody has ever seen me before the way that you do. It feels like perhaps nobody has ever seen me at  _all_. Although I am hardly one to talk of being blind.’

Y/N dropped her gaze, seeming lost for what to say. Panicking, entirely unaccustomed to the feeling of standing upon such a precipice, Loki moved closer and dropped to his knees before her.

'Lady Y/N, I’ve treated you cruelly and rudely since the moment we met. I have no excuse but my own refusal to abandon a years-old grudge. I’ve no right at all to your forgiveness but still I beg it of you. Come back to court. Let us start afresh. I promise I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that you never again regret the way you see me.’ He held up the  _hækkaði_  again. ’ _Please_.’

Although it was only a few moments, it felt like an eternity before Y/N reached out and gingerly accepted the bloom from him, lifting it to her nose to sniff the rich scent. A shadow of a smile crossed her face and Loki felt his heart leap up into his mouth.

'I…I don’t know if I  _should_  return to court, your highness,’ she murmured. 'I left so suddenly, and without the courtesy of informing your lady mother-’

'The request for you to return comes also  _from_  my lady mother,’ he said to her, but the apprehension on her face told him not to press the matter further. 'It doesn’t matter. Forget the court. I’ll come to you. Tomorrow. Every day, if you’ll have me.’

'I-’

'Y/N?’ a new voice called from behind them. 'The gateman said you had a – oh.’

'It’s all right, Mother.’ Y/N stood and Loki hurriedly got to his feet as well. Oops. He’d entirely forgotten to consider the presence of her wider family.

'Your highness!’ The older woman seemed understandably shocked to see a son of Odin kneeling at her younger daughter’s feet.

'Forgive my intrusion,’ Loki said quickly, offering a formal half-bow. 'I needed to speak to Lady Y/N on a matter of some urgency. She…left her sketchbook behind at the palace, and I wanted to be sure it made its way back into her hands.’

Y/N’s mother clearly didn’t think that was much of an excuse for urgency or barging into her gardens without the proper greetings to the master and mistress of the house, but luckily his rank clearly granted him some clemency in her eyes.

'I see. Well, that is very…thoughtful of you, your highness. Would you care for some refreshment?’ she added, gesturing back towards the house veranda.

'No, thank you, I ought to be getting back-’ Loki glanced sideways at Y/N with a silent plea in his eyes ’-but please, Lady Y/N, promise you’ll at least think on my words?’

'I…yes, of course.’ She straightened and lifted her chin a little. 'Mother, I’ll be along in a moment. I should at least see the prince back to his horse and through the gates, since he came all this way to return my book.’

'Yes, yes, fine…’

With a slightly hurried step they ducked out of sight behind the side of the house towards the postern Loki had entered by. He took Sinir’s reins back from the steward and waited until the man had retreated back inside before looking at Y/N again with genuine contrition.

'So now I have both abused your regard at court and disregarded all common courtesy when visiting your family’s house. What you must  _think_  of me…’

'You’ll come tomorrow?’ she asked, sounding so eager that he couldn’t stop the smile that broke onto his face.

'If you wish it.’ An idea occurred to him. 'I’ll bring a skiff. We can go somewhere – anywhere you want. The city, the wilds, the edge of the realm…’

She actually laughed then, and it was like the sweetest music he’d ever heard.

'I’ve rarely gone further than the edge of the city nearest the harbour, your highness. Why don’t you choose somewhere to show me?’

'All right.’ He grinned. 'Dress warmly, then. It can be cold aloft, especially in the mountains. I’ll come for you before tenth bell tomorrow morning.’

'Very well,’ she said, still laughing, but caught at his arm as he made to mount Sinir. 'Wait, your highness – Loki – what does this mean?’

'It means, sweet Y/N, that I intend to see just how far your enthralment with me can be turned to my further advantage,’ he shot back, taking one of her hands and kissing the back of it. She blushed, rather prettily, which made his smile broaden. 'Especially since I must first convince you that I can be more than the twisted, bitter creature you’ve seen at court to date. Luckily for us both, I’m not inclined to shy away from a challenge.’

'Luckily indeed.’ Pulling her hand back, she produced a pencil from somewhere in her bodice and tugged the loose page out of the sketchbook, scribbling something rapidly before refolding the paper and handing it to him. 'Until tomorrow, then, your highness.’

He almost exclaimed out loud in delight when she leaned up and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek, but then she whirled and was gone back inside the house before he could respond. Grinning like an idiot, but not caring one jot, he hopped onto Sinir and trotted the horse out of the courtyard before it occurred to him to look at the piece of paper.

Below the other verse – the one she’d asked Thor to give him – was another.

 _A scoundrel’s grin below his mask_  
No shame he shows; naught yet but glee  
My handsome prince of silver tongue  
Shall come tomorrow morn for me.

Laughing merrily, Loki nudged Sinir into a rapid canter back towards the palace, his mind already awhirl with plans and hopes for what the next day might bring.


End file.
